


Selfish Dragons

by Eliza_Chikatta



Series: Selfish Dragons [2]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Dragon Hanzo Shimada, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-02
Updated: 2018-02-02
Packaged: 2019-03-12 18:18:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13552932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eliza_Chikatta/pseuds/Eliza_Chikatta
Summary: Hanzo wandered the world surviving as he could.One day, he finds someone he doesn't expect.





	Selfish Dragons

**Author's Note:**

> Welp, here's what you've been asking for. I promise there will be plenty more, and it will incorporate the original Short Story Burst... Eventually.

The air was clear and brisk, a sign of cooler days as it caught the falling leaves of the hardy oaks around the city and reddening the cheeks and noses of its occupants. With the colder months beginning to set in, Hanzo found himself wondering if he should get a heavier coat himself, if only not to stick out so much in a crowd. His yukata was beginning to wear with time, especially since he now wore both sides much more often, the edges fringing and splitting in some places despite his best attempts to hold it together, but he was loathe to get a new one. That would possibly mean returning to Japan to find one of good quality, something he was currently reluctant to do until he needed to.

He reached up, fingers brushing against the edge of the seams and passing lightly over the strap that held Storm Bow’s case to his back. It would be imperative for him to at least fix what was unraveling itself. But he needed to get to this assignment first. With a heavy sigh, he retrieved the piece of paper he’d tucked in the confines of his clothes, unfolding it as his eyes flickered over the small slip of a report once again.

 

**Mission: Omega**  
**2230 Trinity’s Court**  
**Safe-guard**  
**Supplies delivered to designated drop are to be brought to [REDACTED]**

 

He wasn’t surprised to have that information removed, but he knew he’d be told on the site anyway, despite how it pinched at the few nerves he had left for this particular employer, a timid man who, try as he might, was not as confident and in control as he tried to seem to be.

Sugared lemon relieved him of his coming headache, turning his nose towards the small bakery he slowed near, breathing in the scent of chocolate, cinnamon, and many more flavors, all sweet and tempting to the poor man’s stomach as he sorely remembered the rather meager money housed in the wallet in a pocket placed between his shoulders on the cello case. (He was no stranger to pickpockets.) Considering his time carefully as he glanced at the clock tower looming above, he decided it wouldn’t hurt to buy something small. He tucked away the small paper and huffed out a breath, soft white warmth dispersing quickly, and he changed his course. Maybe they would have something he could treat himself to.

The glass fogged beneath his hand when he touched the cooled surface, pushing gently and hearing the soft _ding!_ of an installed bell that notified those inside of a new customer. The woman behind the counter was slender and had a rounded face with a youthfulness made to lift spirits. She smiled in his direction, chirping a happy ‘Welcome!’ that he returned with a nod and slight smile, noticing how picturesque and uncrowded the space was. Hanzo supposed he could credit it to the time of night, which made him mildly surprised the shop was still open as he wandered to the counter, gaze looking over the various sweets. His eyes land on a small pastry in the far corner, a smile edging onto his face.

“May I have the rice ball please?” He asked politely, motioning to it as her gaze followed, and she nodded, smiling back cheerfully.

“O' course!” She brightened and reached over the counter to the wax paper stacked delicately on the counter, “For here or to go, sir?”

“I would like to stay here.” He replied, watching her as she fetched a small paper plate and used the wax paper to delicately pluck the treat from it’s display before setting it on the counter. He handed over the small amount of money she asked for before going to sit down at a smaller booth by a window, glad to have a view of both the outside and restaurant. The treat was rather soft and when he applied a little pressure to pull it in half, the smell of plum and light raspberry wafted into his nose in the form of a partly solid jelly in the middle. With a light hum, he enjoyed the first bite, the consistency thick enough not to dribble too much into his beard and glancing outside the window. Bodies drifted past in many faded colors. Blue, dark reds, and the occasional gentle, pastel yellows and oranges with shades of grey and black as he watched passed by. So many melting colors, but nothing that stood out to him. The world had become such a mix of blinding lights and dull clothes, the personalities of the people hardly expressed through the articles of clothes as much as they used to be. Of course, each country he’d been to had had their own semblance of general citizen apparel. Japan was hardy restrained in their choices of colors and many intricate patterns. Americans found their own solace in their nation through smaller decals and bright clothes as well. But, In countries like England, the colors were muted, a more subtle expression, one that Hanzo himself had begun to find himself both comforted by and rather bored of, his gaze drifted through the crowd again. Much more normal than a strong-  
_Green._ He swallowed thickly as his back straightened and he froze for a moment, sharp eyes scanning for that flash of color again, but the glimpse was gone. Had he imagined it? In a crowd of people here, that was not a common color, and to be so distinct.. Such a bright green, the very same that _he_ ….

His stomach twisted, and he refocused on the half finished rice ball, knowing he would very well not finish it now. With a glance at the older clock in the wall of the store, he sighed. He’d lost track of his thoughts for ten minutes. He found a full napkin holder standing on the table and gently wrapped the small item, tucking it into a pocket of his cello case before he stood. The weight of the reminder was heavy on his limbs, but his mission was soon, and he needed to be on his way. With a silent exit only earning him a ‘Have a nice day!’ called to his back as he opened the door, he slipped into the crowd, making his way towards another night of mercenary work.


End file.
